That Time Norway Was a Werewolf
by moeten
Summary: "Ya had tentacles," Denmark said. - "Yes, 'cause I'm a werewolf." - "Werewolves don't have tentacles."


When the sun rose, Norway found himself sitting naked on the floor of Denmark's garage. As far as garages went, it was pretty clean, and Denmark had moved his car outside, so that wasn't too much of a problem. It was really the more that Denmark had dug his axe out from storage and was pointing it at him threateningly.

"That's not how you hold an axe," Norway said, because it wasn't. Then he blinked, looked down at himself, and started to untie the rope around his midsection. "By the way, I'm a werewolf."

Denmark lowered the axe. "I know," he said. That probably explained the rope. But then Denmark added: "No ya aren't."

"Yes I am," Norway said, struggling with the knot and not letting it show. Denmark was annoyingly good at knots. It was stupid of him. "I was bitten in 1872."

"Ya had tentacles," Denmark said.

"Yes, 'cause I'm a werewolf."

"Werewolves don't have tentacles."

Norway finally got the knot undone, and stood up slowly. His knees felt stiff, his legs asleep. Denmark didn't help him, or close the garage door. Not that Norway was concerned about modesty, but it was January, and slightly chilly. "His da' was a werectopus."

"Whose?"

"The werewolf that bit me. His mother was a werewolf, his father was a werectopus." This was in his opinion a very generous explanation that Denmark should be grateful for. Denmark squinted at him in the way that made a certain family resemblance to Sweden come out, and meant he was thinking for once, really concentrating on it. He leaned on his axe, which was more improper axe etiquette. Norway gave up and turned to go into Denmark's house.

Denmark followed. Halfway to the upstairs guest bedroom his mental struggle reaches a conclusion: "… Have ya been talkin' to Japan?"

"No." The upstairs guest bedroom's closet was equipped with clothes belonging to most of the Nordic nations, or of the correct sizes for them, even for Åland who Denmark didn't even talk to. Denmark was an optimist when it came to people coming to stay in his house. Norway grabbed a shirt, pair of trousers, and wool sweater, and began to get dressed. Denmark flopped onto the bed like an ungraceful whale. "What happened last night?" Norway asked. These transformations always left him a little vague the next day.

"We were out drinkin' an' ya turned into a werewolftapus," Denmark said. "So I dragged ya home and put ya in the garage." Huh. That was boring. Norway was slightly disappointed. Then annoyed because Denmark sat up suddenly. "_And_," he said with emphasis, "'cause ya did that, I didn't get laid! If ya wanted to turn into a werectopuswolf and not have sex with me, ya should say so first so I can pick up a girl!"

"Pick one name and stick with it," Norway said menacingly, and then went over to the bed to strangle him.

"Is this gonna turn into sex?" Denmark asked hopefully. So Norway bit him, hard, on his arm. Not in a sexy way. The problem was that Denmark was wearing long sleeves, it still being January, so he got a mouthful of cloth. He tried to tear through it, but with human teeth, it didn't work. He glanced up to see Denmark looking at him with an expression of pity.

"Shut up," Norway said, and aimed for the neck. "I'm gonna turn ya into one, too."

It was difficult to tell if this was sex or not. There was a lot of rolling around and biting, but they were fully clothed at first, and even if there seemed to be some making out going on in the middle portion, punches were also thrown. Eventually Norway got Denmark's shirt off and gnawed at his forearm a bit, but then Denmark got his pants off and Norway kicked him in the face and it was all very confusing for a while after that. When it was all over, they lay sprawled and panting on the guest bed, Denmark examining his bleeding foot (Norway had finally broken skin) and Norway watching him with sated satisfaction. "Am I gonna turn into a Norwegian on the full moon now?" Denmark asked.

"No," Norway said, trying to imagine him as Norwegian. How insulting. Or possibly an improvement. Hard to say without seeing it. "Maybe."

Denmark reached over the side of the bed and fished up his socks, pulling them back on. "Better than an Octowerewolf!"

_No_, Norway wanted to say, because he was not cursed but blessed with the form of a proud and noble beast. But then he saw the trick question. Clever. Nearly. He narrowed his eyes at Denmark, who beamed back, all sunny and cheerful and stupid looking, naked but wearing wool socks. Knowing him, he'd probably turn into a stupid swan or something. "You'll turn into a moose," Norway said, and got dressed again.

* * *

**lutefisk**: lena let's rp an au where denmark and norway are werewolf tentacle monsters.

**lutefisk**: making out

And now you know. (Originally posted November 2012)


End file.
